


No Satisfaction & Many Kisses

by NutterWorks



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Post Reichenbach, Twisted and Fluffy Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-27
Updated: 2013-04-27
Packaged: 2017-12-09 17:52:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,873
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/776290
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NutterWorks/pseuds/NutterWorks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Just…” Sherlock didn't know what to do. If Mycroft didn't tell John then he would have to deal with the whole messy thing. And that would lead to…it would open the door to other things he couldn't..he wouldn't do.</p>
            </blockquote>





	No Satisfaction & Many Kisses

John wasn't going to give him the satisfaction. That was the main thought going through his head as he came to the sudden realization that there was someone in his home.  And that someone was most likely Mycroft Holmes. He had been ignoring Mycroft’s  phone calls, texts, and sudden black cars for the past few months. He had seen the elder Holmes just once after Sherlock...after he had died. Yes, died. It was still hard for him to say or think.

Mycroft was at the funeral. They had exchanged terse looks but never spoke. Mrs. Hudson explained shortly after that John need only pay his half of the rent. John knew the other half must have been covered by Mycroft but he never confirmed it with him. If John didn't have to confirm it then he didn't have to thank him. Because how could he thank Mycroft after what he caused.

A year later after ignoring the elder Holmes brother, John supposed Mycoft must have decided to simply show up. Anthea wouldn’t work this time. Her insistent knocks going unanswered. No intimidation with cameras would work.

But fine. Mycroft was here. And John wasn't going to give him the satisfaction. He thought of setting the groceries on the landing and then sprinting out. He thought of entering the flat and simply ignoring Mycroft. He thought ….this was ridiculous because he was a grown man and although Mycroft Holmes was the British government, John had no reason to fear him.  John stilled himself and took the final step then turned and looked into the chair to see Sherlock Holmes sitting in his chair. And he was blonde.

John still wasn't going to give this Holmes the satisfaction either.

"You look idiotic."

"John I-"

"Do you have plans to stay a blonde?" John smiles and walks to put up the groceries. He is calm. And he knows what he is doing. 

"You don't seem shocked?" Sherlock tilts his head over at John. Slightly oh so slightly. John knows he is trying to read him. He gives a sideways glance as he finishes placing the final items into the cupboard. 

"No, not really."

"I was under the impression..." Sherlock began and stopped shortly. 

"Tea?" John asked with the most nonchalant look he could muster.

"Yes. Thank you." 

John took to the task of making tea. He took down his mug and then for the first time in over a year reached for Sherlock’s. He didn't want to give Sherlock the satisfaction of the reaction but how could the bastard...how could he? He put his head down for only a moment and tried not to show the hurt.

***

Sherlock had waited in the flat. Tried to decide what would happen. Percentages and scenarios floating up from his mind but really he wasn't sure what would happen.

 Mycroft was supposed to tell John because that would be cleaner and more efficient. But two weeks ago  Sherlock realized that would not be happening.

“He is not interested in speaking to me at all, dear brother.”

“Then make him.” Sherlock responded frustrated over the phone. Sherlock was still in America as Mycroft worked out a tiny hiccup with the false identity he had provided to Sherlock. They weren’t letting him board the plane and so he remained stuck there.  The last. The very last part of the web was hiding in Dallas, Texas and so Sherlock had to go there. Yes, Sherlock Holmes put on a cowboy hat.  And if Mycroft’s support team had taken a photo of him then he would murder them all.

“Shall I kidnap him? Is that what you propose?” Sherlock could hear the smirk on Mycroft’s face over the phone.

“Just…” Sherlock didn’t know what to do. If Mycroft didn’t tell John then he would have to deal with the whole messy thing. And that would lead to…it would open the door to other things he wouldn’t...he couldn't do.

“I will do my best.” Mycroft seemed to understand and was mercifully not saying anything

“Thank you.” Sherlock said succinctly and ended the call.

Finally after days of being stuck in this wasteland he was allowed to board British Airlines to Heathrow and flew home. A long cab ride later he arrived he arrived at 221B  Baker. The locks hadn’t changed. He let himself him and knew that John wasn’t here.

Not at the surgery. Mycroft said John was working late shifts due to his problem with sleeping. He wasn’t with Angela , Mary, or  Samantha. All those relationships had ended. Mycroft sending Sherlock quick updates once they began and when they ended. They all looked alike. Boring.

At the shop. Groceries. John would be back soon. Sherlock smiled at the memory when had to give John his card. But that was a different life.  Sherlock was dead to everyone now.  Mycroft would leak the information soon enough. There would be press conferences. His name would be cleared. Everything would fall back in line. It had to. But this feeling. This snake coiling in his belly. This wouldn’t. He’d done everything he could to kill it. He had tried. When he realized these…feelings just after watching John leave the graveyard.  He was set to track down the first of Moriarty’s lieutenants in his web but instead found himself finding a dealer.

The cocaine coursed through his veins and for a few blissful moments Sherlock was free from everything. From what Jim Moriarty had done to his life. From what everyone thought about him. From what John was doing right now.

He laid in the hotel bed and for the first time in many moons found himself moving his fingers slowly down to his zip. This wasn’t a new sensation to him. His brain may run with the efficiency of a machine but his body didn’t. And his body ever so often needed the release. Typically he’d bring himself quickly and efficiently to orgasm before cleaning off and moving back to the task at hand. He never fantasized. He never thought. It was just the motion and the touch his body needed and so it was performed as necessary. But today was not just about the motion. It was not just about the release.

The sound of the zip lowering was only outmatched by the sound of Sherlock’s heavy breathing. His eyes closed and he imagined it was John’s hands lowering his zip. He imagined the cream color jumper in the corner. Quickly taken off and thrown aside.  He imagined the smile on John’s face as he revealed Sherlock’s cock after pulling down his pants. It was a great smile. Not the one he gave his silly girlfriends or witnesses. This was the smile he saved for Sherlock. The one that went all the way to his eyes and wrinkled the corners with excitement and happiness.

Sherlock took himself in his hands and his long fingers held his cock for a minute before moving up and down in slow motions. He brought his hand to his mouth and licked it slow before placing it back on his cock. He took his dick more rough this time. Harder. He bucked his hips and drove into his hand. Feeling the motion. Wishing John was here. And as he imagined John’s lips lowering to suck on his hardened cock Sherlock came…

Hard.

_“Fuck.”_  Sherlock swore into the darkness of the hotel room. Spending your life dedicated to finding something to take away the noise in your mind means not letting yourself get involved in the emotion of anything. And yes, he had let John into his life.  John was his friend but this… This complication was unnecessary.  And for a moment he was almost grateful to Moriarty. Because if he hadn't had to go track down his web then these feelings…might have to be addressed. John was not gay. That moment. That night in Angelo’s Sherlock thought he saw something within him but no, that was wrong. The flurry of women that John had added to their lives saw to that.

The sounds Sherlock would hear from John’s room was not just the women having fun but also John happily touching their bodies. Sherlock would usually play Bach to cover up the sounds but he heard. He always heard and deduced.

John would suck their nipples. That was definitely in John’s sexual repertoire. He’d slide his hands down there and move his fingers gently then hard and furious until the women were wet waiting for him. He’d mount them and enter Sarah or Jeanine or Angela as they heaved their bosoms and their legs opened for him willingly and with anticipation knowing John would give everything to make them scream his name.   And  moments later.

“John!”

Sherlock’s violin hitting the final crescendo just as he’d hear yet another girlfriend scream again

 “John!”       

But he wouldn't have to think about this for now. Now was time to sleep before tomorrow's trip to Russia and finding the first lieutenant. He couldn’t imagine John’s lips on his. Now was the time to focus on the web. Tracking down the people who would carry out Moriarty’s last orders.

***

Sherlock thought back to that night in the hotel as John put up the groceries. That night he realized that no matter what he did They’d never go back to their old lives. But here John was pretending like nothing had happened. Perhaps if John could pretend that Sherlock hadn't faked his death for a year then Sherlock could forget this too. He steepled his fingers and thought.

John handed him his mug. And for a moment John’s hand seemed to shake. Just for a moment but in that moment Sherlock saw everything. John was doing a wonderful job of feigning nonchalance but in Sherlock Holmes’ eyes it was a failure. No doubt some ridiculous techniques given to him by his therapist. John took a breath and sat opposite Sherlock in his chair and stared straight at him before taking a sip.

****

It was just a moment. John thought. He shook as he took down the mug for Sherlock. The one he never used. The one he always saw as he made tea. But no, no. Not like this. He poured the tea and brought it to Sherlock. Handing it to Sherlock like John had before almost broke him but then he recovered quickly and sat neatly in his chair. Taking his mug to his lips he looked over at Sherlock who seemed to raise one eyebrow and focus on John’s lips. He was trying to read him. Sherlock often took in all of John and came back with a deduction of what he had been doing for the last week. The look Sherlock was giving John now was like that moment with Irene.  Sherlock couldn’t surmise what was going on in John’s mind. And John couldn’t help feeling the small victory. He let out a small laugh.

“What?” Sherlock asked. And for once John knew that Sherlock had no answer

“Nothing. Nothing. So tell me.”

Sherlock began

***

“It began with the realization of what Moriarty had planned for me…” And Sherlock told John the whole story.  John only winced once when Sherlock said he had used cocaine again. It was only once but he immediately set his face again to a blank slate. listening. John was amazed that Sherlock was telling him everything. There seemed to be honesty in his words. Leaving nothing out. Sherlock began with explaining the use of the homeless network and the physics of how he survived the fall to the fact that Sherlock had to kill Moriarty's lieutenants and how easy it was to take their life.

*****

Sherlock paused when he said this. He expected John to say something. After all many had warned John that Sherlock could easily become a murderer rather than the person who helped Scotland Yard to find them.

But no, John remained quiet and calm. John’s  face only showing worry once when Sherlock decided to be honest about the cocaine. It was a calculated move. After all Sherlock didn’t like knowing if John still cared. Sherlock mentioned the first time with cocaine… leaving out the details of what happened after he was high on the cocaine.  He added small details of the other times he used the drug and John did show his hand. He was worried for Sherlock. John showed the pain in his eyes. If Sherlock were a better man then he wouldn’t have added

“And I almost died in Quebec after Sebastian Moran shot me” He knew it would push John over the edge and reveal everything.

“Oh God, Sherlock.” John said. Sherlock smiled as the information laid before him. Yes, John cared. Not like Sherlock cared for John but it was enough. Enough for Sherlock to feel it wasn’t insane to carry this…weight.  This heavy weight of caring so deeply for John.

Sherlock continued talking until his throat was dry and finally he took a sip. The tea had gone cold.

“Shall I warm that up for you?” John said and stood quickly took the cup from Sherlock’s hands then went to the kitchen

Quickly moving to re-establish his goal of showing no emotion.

“John why…?” Sherlock didn’t want to ask but he had to know. Why was John acting this way?

John walked back slowly and sat down in his chair

“Because I don’t know how else to behave. I don’t know how to react in this situation. I wanted it… course..I wanted it and prayed for it. Stood at your bloody grave wishing for it at least once a month for the past year but now that it’s here. What do we do Sherlock? Go back to how it was before?”

“Yes?” Sherlock chanced…knowing, always knowing.

“No, no it can never be….never be what it was before and you..” John pointed his finger at Sherlock “You know that. Don’t you?”

“Yes” Sherlock looked down “I do”

“So I am happy you’re back. And of course I’ll try. I’m sure it’ll settle back into you helping Lestrade. Does he know?”

“He does not.”

“Who does? Mycroft right?” John asked and Sherlock nodded “I knew it…the git”

Sherlock seemed reluctant to continue “And Molly. She helped”

John couldn’t help it. He laughed “Knew she was holding up really well. Only seemed sad about me but never about you”

“That is all. You or I can tell the others tomorrow.”  It was getting dark and Sherlock looked out the window.  He then glanced around the apartment. It was the first time he took the time to look around and he noticed no differences from the last time he was here. John hadn’t changed a thing. It had been dusted of course-- By Mrs. Hudson most likely but everything was the same.  

“John I also”

“Just shut up. I can’t hear anymore. You did it for us right? Me and the rest? We don’t have to talk about this again. You're a bastard. But you're my friend. You did this for us. It's fine. It's all...fine. And you will NEVER use drugs again.”

“Of course” Sherlock quickly agreed. Adding a smile.

****

Mrs. Hudson fainted.

***

Lestrade Punched him. So there was the punch. Sherlock had calculated the percentages with the return to John. 37.2 % was that John would punch him. But no that was the good D.I.

***

The news conference went quick and was awful. He had to wear that hat but he smiled and let his photo be taken. The newspapers ran many stories praising him. Mycroft made up a story that the whole thing had been planned with MI6. And blissfully, wonderfully life at 221B returned to normal. John even had a date with a horrible girlfriend that Sherlock would have to play through later. He’d play the Bach concerto in A.

They came home around 10 and went straight to John’s room. He heard the giggling. And the namby pamby “Oh I don’t normally do this on the first date” And then nothing…the clothes would’ve hit the floor by now. John would be cupping her ample breasts and laying kisses on her neck. Sherlock hated this.

Sherlock hated this…jealousy

Sherlock hated this girl

And he also hated that he was hard as a rock right now so he had to try to name all the chemicals on the periodic table in backwards alphabetical order.

But it didn’t work.

“I’m sorry but that is just…” The girl was running down the stairs and ran towards the door “Why bring me here if you knew you...ugh ” She screamed back and opened the door.

John came running after her only in his pants but she was gone “Jo Ann….I’m so-“ but she was gone.

John walked back to Sherlock sitting in his chair with the violin laid oddly in his lap. He leaned against the frame and laughed to himself

“So…my date’s over. What are you doing? No Bach tonight?”

“You noticed?”

“I’m not an idiot you know. I used to worry if I heard Bach in public then I’d immediately get hard.”

They both laughed.

“Well I’ll head to bed then.” John turned to head up the stairs

“No …”Sherlock called out and immediately regretted the desperation in his voice

“What’s that?” John took his foot off the step and walked towards Sherlock’s chair. But Sherlock said nothing

“Really Sherlock I’m tired and horny and really just want to take a shower and go to bed.“ John found himself too tired to be dishonest about his plans for the night

“I need…I want to talk to you” Sherlock didn’t know how to do this. This was not something he was proficient in and would never be

“About what? Any case can wait until tomorrow and your skull is right there. You don’t need me”

“But I do” Sherlock said.

John knitted his eyebrows and tried to understand what Sherlock was trying to say

“What do you need?” John asked

“You.” Sherlock said simply

“What? Sherlock please talk normally. You see you have a genius brain and can understand a lot but me…just an average brain need average answers.  Spell it out for me. What is going on in that crazy brain of yours?”

“John I need to speak uninterrupted for a moment. I am not sure how to say it but I must. Will you give me that please John?”

John hadn’t heard this tone of voice since that day…that damn day at St. Barts

“Of course.”

“John, I think you need to move out.”

“What?”

“You said you’d let me speak”

“I take that back. Not if what you’re going to say is bullshit. This is my home, Sherlock. It’s been my home for the past few years including the year I spent mourning you!” John spat out the last part because he knew it would hurt.

“I know and I’m sorry but”

“But nothing , Sherlock” John stood. He wasn’t doing this tonight. Dealing with this mad man who wanted to kick him out of his home.

“Goodnight Sherlock.”

“I’m attracted to you.”

“What? What are you talking about, Sherlock?”  John wasn’t sure if he heard was right. If he was talking about what he thought…

“I…I fantasize about you. All the bloody time. And I can’t pretend like it’s just something I can pretend doesn’t exist anymore. I can’t focus on the cases anymore. It’s taking me twice as long to figure out what I should’ve known in a minute. I can’t even figure out what you had for dinner when normally I could tell you all the courses and if you’d enjoy them. My whole mind is focused on you, John. Always John.  And I can’t….I can’t breathe or function and this is all I have. My work is all I have. And this decision is the only one if I am going to continue to …function.”

John was stunned silent. Not at the admission of feeling but that Sherlock was hurting and John was the cause of the pain. He slowly walked to Sherlock’s chair and kneeled in front of him. 

“I’m sorry but-…”

“I know. I know you’re not gay”

“No, not that. I’m sorry that I caused this. But you’re not a bloody robot. You don’t need to 'function.' You need to live. And yes, it gets messy and sometimes you have feelings for people who might not return them. I’ve been there. Larissa Anders. Let me tell you. She broke my heart over and over again at her flat out rejection but I tell you... I’d never have given up trying because it’s part of me and this…” John reached out and touched Sherlock’s chest feeling the heartbeat beneath “This is now a part of you.”

John smiled.

Sherlock flinched at the touch to his skin. It burned.

“I can’t carry this weight. It’s too much.” Sherlock closed his eyes. He wasn’t going to cry.  But he couldn’t look at John. This was hard. His face was flushed red. His insides churned.

“You don’t have to. I’ll leave.”

“Thank you.” Sherlock kept his eyes closed. Perhaps if he kept them closed long enough then this would’ve all been a horrible nightmare. But no, he had to open them.

John had stood up and had a foot on the first step.

“You coming?”

Sherlock blinked, “I—what?”

“You tosser. Did you really think I wouldn't want you? Who wouldn't want Sherlock bleedin' Holmes?”

John walked back over and pulled Sherlock from his chair. Sherlock was taller so John grabbed at his neck and pulled him down into a kiss.  There are many kisses in the world that John could have given to Sherlock. One that said ‘I missed you so much’ or to let him know ‘I’ve always wanted you and always would’ but instead he went with ‘I want to fuck you so hard right now’.

 As if the kiss somehow helped Sherlock get back to full deduction speed, Sherlock immediately knew what John was saying and said

‘Yes, I’d like that too.”

Then the floodgate of realization finally opened “You’ve been waiting…”

“Yes..” John responded and kissed Sherlock again

“Since…”

“Yes, that night at Angelo’s” and John kissed Sherlock hard again. This one said ‘You’re an idiot but I love you.’

“But the women and the..” Sherlock knew the answer but he wanted John to say it.

“Well I’m not gay. I’ve said it many times. I don’t like labels but I suppose Bi would the most accurate one if we’re checking boxes here. Stamford and me had an on/off thing for many years. It’s over now, of course. If you're ready ...finally ready for us. If the time is right..”

Sherlock kissed John long and hard. There was many kisses Sherlock could be giving John . It could say ‘I want you now’ or ‘I am so sorry it took us so long to get here’ but instead it said ‘I love you’

“Now is a good time, John.” Sherlock broke the kiss and let John pull him to the bedroom.

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> I may add more porn later. It was supposed to be porn. It turned out fluff.


End file.
